


So Easy and the Words So Sweet

by Chash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Sex Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 06:22:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3840349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the tumblr prompt: "you’re a bouncer at the club next to the brothel where i work and your surly demeanor made me feel very judged until one day you stopped some guys hassling me on my way home from work and i realized it was just your face. now i gently tease you about it every time i see you and give myself mental victory points every time i get you to smile or blush."</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Easy and the Words So Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt [here](http://scottisqueer.tumblr.com/post/115587463466/sex-worker-aus-in-which-people-have-lives-outside). Title from Regina Spektor.

Clarke is having the worst fucking day.

It's been raining all week, and her umbrella broke on her way into work yesterday and she hasn't gotten a chance to replace it yet. She's soaked and already annoyed when she gets in, and her clients are universally awful. When she started, she thought it would always be like that, but most of the time her johns (and the very occasional jane) are fine. But today it's nothing but poor hygiene, poor manners, and a group of guys who are really, really pissed that she won't do bukkake, or even take all of them at the same time--the worst are always the ones who think that just because they're paying, she's not allowed to say no. The madam backs her up and gets them out, but it still leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

All she wants to do is go home, order a pizza, and watch Netflix until she passes out. But when she leaves work (in the rain, of fucking course), that last group of guys is still hanging around outside, smoking and passing around a brown paper bag with some kind of alcohol in it.

Clarke carries mace and a gun with her, always, but the idea of having to use them has her heart racing. _Maybe they're not looking for me_ , she tells herself, getting the comforting weight of the gun in her hand inside her bag. 

"Hey, blondie!" the one in front yells. She's got her headphones in, but not turned on, so she speeds up and pretends she can't hear him. "Hey! I'm talking to you! Where are you going?"

"Why don't you shut the fuck up?"

She does look up at that, because she knows that voice. It's the fucking asshole bouncer from Grounders, the one who always looks like he swallowed a lemon, his large arms crossed over his chest, his glower aimed at the group of frat guys instead of her for once. His eyes flick to her, but he's concerned, not judgmental. Clarke gets closer to him, unconscious, and he moves toward her as well. They're not friends, he's always scowling when he sees her and she's pretty sure he disapproves of her profession, but they're on the same side for this one. 

"What's it to you?" asks the leader. There are four of them, but none of them are particularly big guys, and they're clearly drunk. Even without her, the bouncer could probably drop them without breaking a sweat.

"I don't know what you're looking for, but you should walk it off, man," says the bouncer. "Seriously. And if I ever see you around here again, I'm calling the cops."

"I've got a gun," Clarke says, low enough only he'll hear her. "Will that help?"

He raises his eyebrows. "Full of surprises, huh?" he asks, just as soft. This close, she can see his eyes are dark brown, and he has a smattering of freckles on his cheeks. "I'll let you know."

The guys seem to decide it's not worth it. "Whatever, she's just a--"

"Don't finish that sentence," says the bouncer, cold. "Get the fuck out." They take off, throwing glares at the bouncer, but he doesn't seem to notice them. He looks down at Clarke; it's hard to tell in the darkness, but he looks like he might be blushing. "Where's your car?"

"I walked."

"Jesus," he mutters, and opens his umbrella. "Come on, I'll walk with you."

"You don't know where I'm going."

"You can tell me." Clarke hesitates, and the bouncer says, "Come on, Princess. I don't want you shooting anyone tonight."

"It's Clarke," she says, falling into step with him.

"Bellamy."

"Thanks," she says, a little grudging. "For helping out."

"You look like you can take care of yourself, but four-on-one is shitty odds." He huffs. "That happen a lot?"

"First time for everything."

He makes a face. "Assholes."

Clarke has to smile a little; she kind of thought _he_ was an asshole, but he might just suffer from resting grimace face, which she can't really fault him for. He catches her expression and smiles back, like he's not totally sure about it. It's kind of cute, really.

"Most of them are fine."

"Yeah?" He ducks his head, clearly embarrassed. "My, uh--my mom used to work there. Before she died. It's--I'm glad it's not too bad."

"Oh."

He smiles at her expression. "It's a little weird," he says. "Working right next door. But the money's good, and I kind of like knowing I'm around if you guys need backup."

"Me too," she says, and he blushes again.

She could probably get used to making Bellamy the grouchy bouncer blush.

*

He's outside the next day when she gets into work, and she gives him a grin and a wave. He surprises her by jogging over. "Here."

She blinks at the small umbrella he offers; it's blue with white spots, totally adorable.

"You, uh. You didn't have one. Last night." He's blushing already; this is easier than she thought. "You probably just forgot yours, I--"

She kisses him on the cheek, just because she can. "Thanks, Bellamy."

*

She goes over the day after that on her dinner break with a box of cupcakes.

"What's this?" he asks, amused.

"My roommate and I were baking today. It's a thank you. For walking me home, and the umbrella."

"Oh," he says. "Well, uh, thanks. That's nice of you." He rubs the back of his neck. "You aren't leaving yet, are you?"

"No, I'm just grabbing something to eat."

He clears his throat. "I, uh--we close up about the same time, you know. Usually. I only live a few blocks away you. Walking with someone is probably better than having to worry about busting out mace or a gun, right?"

She laughs. "Are you asking if you can walk me home every night, Bellamy?"

He scowls so hard she thinks his face might freeze like that, which is kind of great. "I'm saying if we're leaving at the same time we might as well--"

"That would be great. Give me your number, I'll text you when I start with my last client. But I won't be offended if you don't wait."

He's outside when she finishes, hands jammed into his pockets, glaring at the universe at large. But he smiles when he sees her, and she waves. "Hey, Bellamy."

"Hey." He rubs the back of his neck. "How was your night?"

"You really want to know?"

He looks surprised. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Not a lot of people who know what I do want to hear about it. My roommate's good, but--" She sighs. "I guess it's not really just the job for most of my friends, it's my whole life."

"Why are they your friends if they don't want to hear about your whole life?"

"It's a long story."

"What else am I doing right now?" He smiles at her. "Unless you don't want to tell me, obviously."

"I got disowned," she admits. "I've always been pretty well off--really well off, honestly. Rich. But my mom was involved in some bad stuff, my dad ended up taking the fall for it, and I just--couldn't be around her. We fought, she cut me off, and she's convinced I'm going to come back someday. But there's no way. Most of my friends are from before that, and they don't want to hear anything about what I'm doing to get money, or how shitty my apartment is, or any of that. They just want to know when I'll be back at college."

"What were you studying?"

"Pre-med," she says. "I know I was really lucky to be doing that at a great school, but I hated it, honestly. This isn't something I ever imagined doing, but I don't have trouble separating sex from intimacy, the money is good, and I know they have my back if anything goes wrong. It's not a long-term career, but--I'm happier now, and I think I'm going to be fine."

"It's generally better when you feel like you're in control of your life," he says evenly.

"You don't think I'm an idiot?"

"If I had money, I doubt I'd give it up," he says. "But you did what you thought was right, and it sounds like you're better off. I'm not going to fault you for it." He smiles at her again. "So, really, how was your night?"

"Pretty uneventful, honestly." She considers, but she wants to feel him out. "I did have a guy who wanted me to spank him, which--that's fine, not my kink, but I'm not going to judge. I just never feel like I'm any good at it, you know?"

He breaks out laughing, and it's the first time she's actually heard that. He has a nice laugh, and she wants it to happen more often. "You know, I actually don't. I've never had to sit down and think about whether or not I'm good at spanking people."

She laughs too. "Okay, fine, but you know what I mean, right? I know I'm good at sex, but once it gets into stuff like that, I'm never really sure I'm what the guys are looking for. It's a lot easier when they want to spank me, that's easy, I just moan a lot."

The tips of his ears are red, but he's still laughing a little. "That never really occurred to me, but yeah, I can see that."

"The wonders of prostitution," she says, and he doesn't flinch away from the word like some people do.

"You learn something new every day." He stops outside her door and gives her another smile. "So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Thanks for walking me home."

"Any time."

*

It becomes a regular thing. Bellamy always waits for her, always asks her how her day was, and never shies away from what she tells him. He blushes when she smiles at him, and smiles back at her when she makes faces at him when he's working, and he's--well, he's really great, honestly. 

But he knows what she does, and she's not sure he's great enough he'd be interested in more, when she spends her evenings having sex with other people.

Raven is having none of that. "Just get him over here for game night. And then I can make sure he's good enough for you. I don't know if I approve. He could be a secret dickhead."

It's as good an excuse as any. "My roommate wants to meet you," she tells him. Their schedules don't always line up, but they both always have Tuesday off, so it feels kind of like fate. "We're having a bunch of people over to play board games tomorrow, if you're free."

"Board games?"

"I don't really like clubs much, and she works with a bunch of nerds."

He laughs. "Yeah, I don't either, honestly. But the hours work and the pay's good." He cocks his head at her. "What have you told her about me?"

"That you're kind of overprotective, but in a cute way."

He rubs the back of his neck, blushing again. "Great. What time?"

*

He shows up with a bottle of wine and a bouquet of flowers as hostess presents. "It's _polite_ ," he tells Clarke, when she laughs at him.

"It's very polite. Thanks, Bellamy."

It's just Raven's friends from work, because Clarke still feels weird around hers. But Raven's friends are nice and laid back, and she promises Bellamy he'll be fine. She doesn't tell him he's the first person she's ever invited to one of these, but she thinks he might guess.

"Do they, uh--" he starts, soft, before they go in. "Is there anything you don't want me to talk about?"

"They know I work at a club," Clarke says. "I've never said much specific, but I think Wick figured it out. I told them you work with me."

He shrugs. "Close enough." He smiles. "Thanks for inviting me."

"Thanks for coming." She takes him into the living room, which already holds Raven, Wick, and Monty. They've got some weird game Wick brought about the Arabian Nights, which he assures them is like an awesome, dirty, choose your own adventure book. "Hey guys, this is Bellamy. Like I said, we work together."

It takes a few minutes for them to get comfortable, but the game is fun and completely absurd, and it's hard not to feel relaxed around people when you're encountering weird genies and trying to sleep with them. Bellamy fits in easily, choosing the most ludicrous reactions to every encounter he has, reading all of the game text in a ridiculous porno voice even when it's totally normal, ribbing her and Raven, doing weird macho dude things with Wick, taking it easy on Monty until Monty starts joking around with him first.

It's kind of awful, really, seeing how easily he'd fit into the rest of her life.

"I'm going to Wick's tonight," Raven announces after they clean up. "Nice to meet you, Bellamy."

It's not the least bit subtle, Clarke thinks, the way she drags Monty with them and leaves her alone in the living room with Bellamy. He clears his throat. "So, uh, I guess she approves of me," he remarks.

"Yeah, she definitely would have said if she didn't. She's vocal about that stuff.

"I wasn't sure if you dated," he says. "My mom didn't, she said it wasn't worth the trouble. I didn't really know how to ask, I didn't want you thinking I was just talking to you because I wanted--I like you. And I'll still like you if you're not--"

She kisses him, just (well, not just) to put him out of his misery, and he slides his arms around her, no hesitation, kissing her back like he's been waiting just as long as she has. 

"I like you too," she says, smiling. "And my roommate likes you."

"Definitely the most important thing," he says, kissing her neck.

"Definitely."

*

The next day, he takes her hand as they're walking home and asks, "So, anything exciting today?"

Her eyes flick to him. "It doesn't make you jealous? Hearing about me sleeping with other guys?"

"It's your job," he says, with a shrug. "I'm the one you want to sleep with when you're not working, right?"

"The only one, yeah."

He shrugs. "So what do I have to be jealous of?" He grins. "I mean, I know you aren't going to be willing to spank me, but--"

She shoves him away, laughing, and when he comes back, he wraps his arm around her shoulders instead. She leans against his side, easy, and tells him about her day.

He kisses her when he drops her off, and Clarke thinks she could get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> The game they're playing is Tales of the Arabian Nights, and it is really magical if you're into that kind of thing.


End file.
